How hard should children be pushed to get good grades?
When I was little, I was at the top of my class. I got straight As, I was a fast learner, and, at the endofyear ceremony, I almost always received the award for having the highest grades in French.
Writing, reading, and understanding French came naturally to me. With very little effort, I always got near perfect grades on dictations, writing assignments, and reading comprehension.
Elementary school and high school were a breeze. I never had to study and nobody ever told me to work harder.
Then I got to CEGEP.
For the very first time, a French teacher had the audacity to tell me that—even though my essay had no mistakes, was well constructed, and was perfectly satisfactory—a girl with my skills should be able to do much more and much better.
Reading her words made me realize that she was right—I wasn’t trying. I had never done more than what was asked of me. Nobody had ever pushed me, even though I’d always had what it took to do better.
I’m telling you this, sweetheart, because you’re just like I was when I was young.
You get good grades, you’re a natural in all subjects, and I can’t decide whether I want to push you harder or teach you something new.
Mainly due to a lack of time, I’m torn between the desire to push you to study more so that you can perfect the skills you already have and the desire to take advantage of your natural abilities so that you can develop new skills.
I’m hesitating between specialization and versatility. Ambition and diversification. Work and pleasure. Perfection and good enough.
I’ll be honest—I don’t really think I’ll ever find the answer.
I’m still uncertain, not just for you, but also for myself.
• One week, I insist that you write your text out again more neatly, and the next, I think that your writing is already neat enough and that I shouldn’t be constantly asking you to rewrite things.
• One week, I pour my heart and soul into my writing, and the next, I spend all my time baking, drawing, and painting.
• One week, I demand that you explain why you made two mistakes on your dictation, and the next, I congratulate you for having made only three.
• One week, I start writing a book, and the next, all I want to do is try new pastry techniques.
I know it’s probably hard to keep up, and I’m sorry if you sometimes don’t know where I’m at.
I have to admit that, even at my age, I still feel a little lost. But the older I get, the more I realize that it’s okay to be ambivalent. That it’s okay to sometimes ask more of you and at other times to accept that good enough is enough.
For a long time, I wished that people had pushed me to use my natural abilities more when I was younger. But now I realize that by not dedicating myself to one skill, I was able to develop other ones.
This allowed me to become versatile, curious, and interested in almost everything around me. To explore different professional avenues and vary my activities so that I wouldn’t ever get bored.
In the end, sweetheart, I’m going to continue to ask more of you at times, because I know that you are capable, and at other times to be okay with good enough, because I want you to have time to try other things.
Because I want you to vary your interests and your skills.
Because I don’t want you to become obsessed with perfection.
And because, most of all, I want you to learn that you should never be too hard on yourself.